


It's Such An Ugly World

by TheDoctorCalledMeACumberbitch



Series: Naive [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A - Freeform, Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drugs, Hudson - Freeform, M/M, Mrs, Nurse - Freeform, Past Abuse, Rehab, Rehabilitation, Roommates, Teenagers, even - Freeform, is - Freeform, teen!lock, what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-25 09:26:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1643762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDoctorCalledMeACumberbitch/pseuds/TheDoctorCalledMeACumberbitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sherlock is sent to rehab at Rose Hall he thinks it will be a straight forward in-out business. Then he had to go and get a roommate. But will the loyal John Watson prove to be less than an idiot after all? And is he any use in the fight against relapse?<br/>We've all got our demons. But can the baker street boys fight theirs?</p>
<p>This is my first ever non-omegle fic and would love you to read and comment :) Not Betaed so please tell me of any grammatical mistakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Such An Ugly World

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :) Sorry this is my first fic not made on Omegele and I want you guys to like it so this chapter took a while to write out. Please comment any opinions or grammar corrections! Or ideas, of course! Thanks for reading :)

“ _Sherlock, we can't help you if you don't talk.” The man with the moustache said. And yet Sherlock continued to look out of the dreary window, the rain hitting hard against the side of the orphanage. The man sighed and ran an aggravated hand through his salt and pepper hair._

“ _Don't you see? No one wants to adopt you because you don't say a word! No one wants a troubled child, Sherlock, you have to try harder!”_

_The small boy turned from the window and looked up at him then. His puppy dog eyes peaked out from behind his mass of curls and fixed him with an icy glare._

“ _Three dogs.”_

 

“ _Sorry?”_

 

“ _You. You have three dogs. Long haired Alsations which you hate. No. You're allergic to them. You hate your job even more than you hate your cheating wife who is pregnant by the way. Oh. But it's not yours is it? No of course not.”_

 

_The man sat there stunned and staring at the seven year old with a mixture of confusion, shock and anger. He continued,_

 

“ _Abused as a child, both emotionally and physically. Have difficulty excepting love from men, despite your latent homosexuality.”_

 

_The man gulped awkwardly and fiddled with his clipboard, his eyes never once leaving the face of the terrifying child in front of him._

 

“ _You cannot have children and you believe that that's the reason your wife left you, that and she discovered your string of male lovers. I do not speak, sir, as no-one wishes to know what I have to say.”_

 

_The man looked at the ridiculously well spoken child and shook his head. He came up very close and said,_

 

“ _This is why they left you. This is why your brother sent you here and not to his flat. No-one can love you.”_

 

“Sherlock-”

 

“ _You'll always be alone.”_

 

“Sherlock-”

 

“ _He beat you because you deserved it!”_

 

“Sherlock!”

 

Sherlock woke with a start to stare straight into the eyes of a nurse. He groaned and rolled over in bed, hiding his head under his pillow, the tingle of withdrawal still ever present and lingering on his skin. He scratched weakly at an arm and sat up.

 

“Sherlock Holmes,” The angry nurse started. “Look at the mess you have made of your room! And I got more complaints last night about you playing violin at god-knows-what hour!”

 

Sherlock rolled back his covers and climbed out of bed in a much less than graceful manner. He walked up to the woman (of which he was taller than by at least a foot) and stared at her with every bit of consciousness he could muster up after being awake for all of 2 minutes.

 

“Perhaps, Hudders,” The taller man sighed. “Violin calms me. And I think I'll need all the calm I can get after what you're doing to me today.”

 

“Oh Sherlock!” The older lady gasped but there was humour dancing in her eyes. “You might like your new roommate, you never know! Not everyone on Earth is an 'idiot' you know.” She gave a high pitched giggle and started cleaning the curly haired boy's room, despite continuously reminding him that she wasn't his maid. Sherlock sighed but gave a light tight-lipped smile to reassure the woman.

"I'll try Mrs Hudson." He promised. And he thought he kind of meant it.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Both breakfast and lunch passed slowly for the seventeen year old, each person seemingly more clueless and idiotic than the last. He had no sessions with Molly or Greg and so was left to grow increasingly annoyed at every junkie who attempted to talk to him. And so he grudgingly watched the clock tick closer and closer towards 4 O'clock when it was that his new roommate was to arrive. The uncertainty of the new addition to the Rose Hall Rehabilitation Centre made Sherlock feel nervous. The nervousness made his skin itch and the itchiness made his mind ache for the only substance that could quiet it.

He prayed often but to no avail that Mycroft would appear and say that he should not be in here. And yet he was simultaneously aware that it was Mycroft who put him in there and that there wasn't a chance on gods green earth that he was getting out any time soon. Not after his recent relapse. Sherlock sighed and continued to pluck at the strings of his violin. He had retired to his room after he got in a fight for proving that another man still had drugs in his system. Nasty business. He was supposed to be getting out in two days.

Sighing again the curly haired genius glanced up at the clock on his wall.

3:30. Not long now.

He wondered to himself what his new roommate would be in for. If it was cocaine like him then maybe he'd bring some with him.

He knew he shouldn't be thinking like that.

He didn't care.

No he can't see them inviting in another cocaine boy, probably out of fear that he would be just like Sherlock. Hmm. According to the statistics that he collected from the files he stole, it is most likely that this new man would be a heroin addict. That's what Rose Hall seemed to favour. 

3:45

God Sherlock wasn't going to enjoy this one bit. 

3:50

The need for something more than paracetamol was getting much worse. He'd almost killed his last roommate for smashing a violin. Yes, it had been 3 o'clock in the morning but no that didn't mean it was 'bloody ridiculous and arseholey' to play at that time.

3:55

 Oh dear he was going to mess this up wasn't he? Sherlock shook himself slightly and went to check his phone. 2 calls from Mycroft. Probably jailed more of Sherlock's friends. Well he says friends. More like dealers really. God when he got out he'd have no-one to go to at this rate. Taking a few deep breaths he checked his calendar. The days tended to muddle up in here, although he did know that it was summer. Okay. Only 2 months left in this dump and then he was out and free to roam the streets of London once more.

4:00

Oh come on where the bloody hell was he?

4:05 

Mrs Hudson came up to tell him that a John Watson had arrived. Stomach dropping Sherlock went down stairs to investigate. And there stood in the hallway was a boy smaller than Sherlock and dressed in an over sized woolly jumper. He didn't look like a druggie. He was well built with a sweet (if slightly chubby....but not necessarily in a bad way) face. He ran a hand through his muddy blonde hair just as Mrs Hudson caught sight of Sherlock on the stairs. "Ah John meet your roommate Sherlock Holmes!" Sherlock walked down the remaining stairs and up to John before extending his hand. John took it with a practiced caution but the hint of a tremble. Hmm. Suffering from withdrawal. Though seeing as he was here that made sense.

"Good to meet you." He said, clearly sizing Sherlock up with his eyes.

"Yes, quite." Sherlock replied before taking a dramatic turn and climbing the staircase.

"He always like that?" John asked, smiling, before following the curly haired boy upstairs. 

John was trying to find his way to their room (No thanks to Sherlock for leaving him. What kind of a name is Sherlock anyway?) when he bumped into a girl not much younger than him. Despite being caught of guard by the sudden appearance of the girls tiny frame he still set her with a big grin.

"Hi I'm John!" He grinned. "Sorry about bumping into you like that."

The girl waved off his apology but held out her hand. "Molly." She smiled. "Molly Hooper. Sixteen. And you are?"

"John. John Watson. Eighteen. I'm new here." At hearing this Molly's eyes widened. A look of glee passed over her features as she damn near made a squeal of excitement.

"Oh god yes! You're Sherlock's new roommate."

John nodded. "You a friend of his?" He asked quirking an eyebrow quizzically. Molly laughed.

"Well I'm the closest he's got." Just as John laughed two arms reached round Molly's mid-drift and squeezed. She screamed and turn round ready to confront her prankster before breaking into giggles.

"Greg!" She giggled. "You scared the hell out of me!"

The brown haired boy, now identified as Greg, smiled and let go of Molly to offer his hand to John. "Gregory Lestrade." He smiled a John took his had. "This little minx's boyfriend so don't be getting any ideas!" John laughed at shook his hand.

"John Watson. And she's not really my area, mate."

A look of confusion passed over Greg in the form of a slight frown and an open mouth. However John could see the exact second that the penny dropped and heard it in fact from the boys exclamation of "Oh!" followed by "Well whatever shakes your...boat....." John laughed. He'd only come to terms with his sexuality himself a few months earlier.

"Don't worry about it, mate, I don't exactly walk round wearing a pink sign."  Greg laughed and pointed to a door at the end of the hall. 

"That'll be yours mate. Tell Sherlock I'll see him at dinner." John thanked him and walked towards the door. He rapped against it with his knuckles and awaited an answer. Not receiving one, he opened the door and peered inside.

In front of his was what appeared to be a living room complete with two armchairs, a fireplace, a sofa and a TV. He cautiously wandered in and looked around. On each wall to his left and right was another door, the ones he presumed led to the bedrooms. "Sherlock?" He called out, leaning his suitcase against the back of the sofa. Next he heard a thump followed by a curse before the curly haired teen walked through the bedroom door to the left. His curly hair was like a black halo above his head and he was dressed to an impeccable standard in a, frankly beautiful, black suit.

"Yes, what?!" He asked, irritated. John stood, shocked, before reminding his brain to kick into gear. 

"Ummm yes sorry, I was wondering which room was mine." The raven haired boy sighed before quipping,

"Well I should say that's rather obvious now." John nodded before dragging his case towards the door that Sherlock has not exited. He heard a dramatic sigh behind him and turned to face it. "What?!" He exclaimed, slightly peeved at the way Sherlock was addressing him.

"That's my room." John stepped forwards.

"Then why did you just-"

"Well I'd have been happy to leave that growth culture in your room if you'd have preferred!" 

John stared at him in shock. Hazel eyes staring into steel grey. Then he just couldn't hold it back anymore and he burst into a shock of laughter. Sherlock stared at him, a look of confusion seeping through the usually well maintained guarded expression. By now John was full on laughing and the corner of Sherlock's mouth was twitching in a half smile.

"You...are...ridiculous, you know?" John stuttered in between gasps of laughter. Sherlock looked at him, his half smirk still in place.

"Yes, I have been told before." Just as John's laughter was sobering he remembered what Greg had said earlier.

"Oh, yeah, sorry I forgot. Molly and......er....Greg, I think it was, said they'd see you at dinner." With that the facade returned and Sherlock raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"Molly's coming to dinner? That's new. Maybe she's finally stopped being so damned boring." John looked at him, once again in shock due to this raven haired boy.

"What do you mean 'boring'?" He asked, fixing him with a look of confusing loyalty towards the girl that he had talked to once. Sherlock met his eyes and gave a bored sigh, turning towards one of the arm chairs and flopping disgracefully into it.

"She's fixated on the way she looks due to low self-esteem as a result of her withdrawal from heroin. Do tell me John, do you plan on being this idiotic your whole stay?"

John stared at him, a mixture of shock and disgust painting has face. "Heroin? Her?! She's two inches tall!"

"I hardly think her height has anything to do with addiction, John." Sherlock retorted, a look of pure boredom on his face. Everything about him screamed snobby, upper-class and too bored to be here.

"I..I just can't believe she told _you_!" John cried. Sherlock acknowledged him, a bemused look now covering his usual expression of boredom.

"She didn't tell me John. I saw it."

"What do you mean you 'saw it'? Did she use in front of you?" Sherlock snorted in a huff of laughter.

" **Please** , if it was that easy to get drugs in here do you think I'd be talking to _you_ right now?"  John pushed the insult aside, too deep in search for answers to care.

"Fine fine fine, so what do you mean you 'saw it' then?"

"I observed." John laughed and started to drag his suitcase to the room that he was now aware was his.

"Oh come off it." He said, smirking over his shoulder. "Isn't that all a little Hollywood?"

"Alcohol or Xanax?" John stopped dead in his tracks and swiveled to face the boy who was absentmindedly scratching at the back of his hand.

"I'm sorry?!" The boy stood up from his chair and walked towards John until they were face to face. Well, face to shoulder as Sherlock was a head taller than John.

"Are you in for alcohol or Xanax?" John shifted uncomfortably and looked at the ground. He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair before looking back up into Sherlock's eyes.

"Alcohol. How did you-"

"I just saw it. Like I can read your sister's cannabis addiction from your suitcase and your fathers violent behavior from your hairstyle." John stared at him in awe. He opened and closed his mouth, looking to all the world like a goldfish.

"How..that's....how?!" Sherlock sniffed defiantly.

"I just saw it. All the idiots I am surrounded by, they see but they do not observe and-"

"That was amazing." Sherlock looked dumbfounded. 

"Oh that's not what people normally say." John smirked and raised an eyebrow, the tension he had not realized had gathered dispersing. Sherlock shuffled awkwardly and remembered what people normally said. _Freak. Monster. Weirdo. Piss off. You're mental. What's wrong with you?_ He coughed.

"Other......things." John looked at him, slightly concerned, but smiled anyway. 

"Well I think you're brilliant" John smiled before heading into his room shouting over his shoulder. "Call me when it's dinner." Leaving Sherlock stood there alone.

Well this was new. Very new. He hadn't been punched yet for a start. He jumped up out of his chair and straightened his suit jacket. He walked over to the mirror that hung above his-wait- _their_ fireplace (he'd have to get use to that). A strand of cured black hair hung limply across his left eye and framed his high protruding cheekbones. Sighing he pushed the strand back and walked over to his room. Puling open the door he avoided the beakers strewn on the floor to reach his bed. Lying down with no intent to sleep, he closed his eyes. Maybe this John boy won't be too bad. But he'd better not speak to soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Oka so there's the first chapter :/ it's not great but the second chapter will be better pinky promise! This was just an introduction to the characters and their addictions :) Think of it as more of a prologue. Thank you!


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